


the art of running away

by tooruluvr



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Boba Date, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, except matsukawa's in denial, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:27:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28312335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tooruluvr/pseuds/tooruluvr
Summary: All Issei can do in the face of the closest thing he has ever had to a rival is stare. The sun is right over their heads, the breeze just a slight tickle against his cheek, and Tendou Satori of Shiratorizawa Academy is asking him out.Well, sort of.“I’m sorry—you want tobeton a date?”
Relationships: Matsukawa Issei/Tendou Satori
Comments: 7
Kudos: 44





	the art of running away

**Author's Note:**

> _[lychee milk tea and a passionfruit slush.](https://open.spotify.com/track/733hyyG8U8kxxebds98nc6?si=Sv9Bzo8kRmmPK4rF3OMaMw)  
>  _

Matsukawa Issei is well-versed in the art of running away.

It’s not the sort of thing one would boast about — Issei isn’t a show-off by any means, either — but it has gotten him out of several unfavourable situations before, and he is grateful for that.

Now, however, it doesn’t seem to be doing him any good.

“So? What do you say, Matsukawa-kun?”

All Issei can do in the face of the closest thing he has ever had to a rival is stare. The sun is right over their heads, the breeze just a slight tickle against his cheek, and Tendou Satori of Shiratorizawa Academy is asking him out.

Well, sort of.

“I’m sorry—you want to _bet_ on a date?” Issei says, just to make sure he hadn’t imagined the whole thing.

Tendou smiles and it spreads across his face wide. It’s different from the smile he has on after a successful kill block — that one, Issei has always thought of as a threat. This one makes him stare just a little bit longer.

“Yes!” Tendou says. “If we win, you let me take you out on a date. If _you_ win,” and here he looks at Issei because he knows the thought is merely that — a thought, “you can forget about this whole thing.”

Secretly, Issei wonders if this is a cruel joke. Maybe it is. He’s known Tendou to have cruelty etched in every line of his face, in the flash of his eyes and the flex of his fingers. Maybe Tendou grew tired of watching Issei’s silent despair at never being able to match his blocks. Maybe Tendou is getting creative. Maybe...Maybe—

“Well you don’t have to look so horrified.”

Issei’s eyes flicker up to Tendou’s again. He’s smiling still, but it’s...smaller. Issei bites the inside of his cheek. 

“I’m not going on a date with you.”

Tendou tilts his head. “But Matsukawa-kun, I’m asking you to accept the _bet,_ not the date.” Now his smile widens again, and it reminds Issei of being on the court. “Unless...you already know you’ll lose?”

“We won’t lose,” Issei says; a knee-jerk reaction. The sinking feeling in his chest is a cruel omen of otherwise, but he won’t grant Tendou that satisfaction.

“Then it’s settled!” Tendou says, triumph in his voice. “Let’s have us a good match, Matsukawa-kun!” He reaches for his hand and shakes it enthusiastically. The coldness of it startles Issei, and it lingers with him long after Tendou’s gone.

Matsukawa Issei is well-versed in the art of running away — and Tendou, somehow knowing that, never gives him the chance.

  
  
  
  
  


━━━━━━━━━━

  
  
  
  
  


“Ah, took you long enough.”

When Issei returns to the gym, he’s carrying more than just the weight of his bag. Hanamaki bounds over to him instantly, volleyball shoes and kneepads already slipped on. “Hey, you okay? You’re making a funny expression. Did he say anything weird?”

Issei has no idea how to break the news, or whether he _should._ Tendou probably wasn’t serious anyway. He was probably messing with him. Their match is in a little while, they should focus on that.

But this is Hanamaki, who can see through him as easily as breathing. Who else would he confide this to?

“He...asked me out.”

Hanamaki blinks. “He _what_?”

“Actually, it was more of a bet.”

At this point, Hanamaki stares at Issei like he’s grown a second head. On another occasion, Issei would’ve found much amusement at having rendered Hanamaki’s expert shit-talking ass speechless, but Tendou’s words are still ringing through his mind: _If we win, you let me take you out on a date._ Even as he tries to clear up the confusion by relaying exactly what happened, none of it seems real.

“A _date_?” Hanamaki laughs, then pauses as if to say something before laughing again. “No — you’re kidding, right? Are you messing with me? Is this payback for the time Oikawa and I accidentally locked you in the school gym?”

“First of all, you’re both assholes—” Hanamaki snorts at that, “—and second of all, _no._ I somehow got into a bet with him and the only way to get out of it is if we win.”

“So let’s win!”

“Hanamaki.”

“Right, sorry. Oikawa’s on my case any time I hint that we might lose.”

He says it as a joke, but Issei doesn’t offer his usual smile. He’s not _worried,_ per se, but incredibly and unimaginably perplexed. Who would even want to go out with him?

“You know,” Hanamaki says delicately, “Tendou’s annoying on the court, that’s for sure, but…” He tries to say something, then drops it, then decides to try again. “I don’t know. I just feel like he’s not the type to pull something this low, either. I mean, he might actually wanna date you.”

Issei folds his arms, watching the team slowly stream out of the changing rooms, Oikawa and Iwaizumi in tow. They spot them and Oikawa starts to beckon them over, but before he can get a word out, their coach calls him for a last-minute discussion. He frowns, jogging over, and Iwaizumi looks like he wants to follow him, then changes his mind.

“What are you two waiting for?” He asks, looking at Issei with a contemplative frown. “Is this about Tendou? Was he just messing with you after all?”

Hanamaki grins. “Oh just wait ‘til you hear this, Iwaizumi.” He lowers his voice as if disclosing a dangerous secret, and Iwaizumi instinctively leans in. Issei shifts in place, but he decides he doesn’t mind Iwaizumi knowing.

When Hanamaki finishes telling him what happened, Iwaizumi’s face has gone through about ten different expressions in a minute. He looks at Issei, then at Hanamaki, then back at Issei again.

“He…” His voice trails off.

“Asked Matsukawa out on a date, yes,” Hanamaki finishes, then adds as an afterthought, “Kind of.”

Iwaizumi pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why is nothing ever easy with this team?”

“I think you should do it,” Hanamaki grins, catching both of them by surprise. Issei stares at him, but all he gets by way of explanation is a cheeky grin.

“Do what?” he asks. “Like, go out with him if we lose?”

Hanamaki shrugs. “I mean, why not? If you want to, of course.” He eyes Issei carefully, mouth pursed in thought. “And you kind of look like you do.”

Iwaizumi follows Hanamaki’s gaze as if he could, by some means, understand what he’s talking about.

“Don’t be stupid,” Issei huffs, then starts towards the changing room. It’s almost time for warm-ups, and he still needs to get ready. “Why would I want to go out with him? I don’t even like him.”

“You hardly know him beyond the court,” Hanamaki says, trailing behind him. “You might be surprised. And anyway, we probably won’t win, so you should start thinking of what to do about him.” He turns to face Iwaizumi, finger to his lips. “Don’t tell Oikawa I said that, okay?” And then he jogs off, seemingly to tease their unsuspecting juniors instead.

“Out of all of us, he tolerates Tendou the most,” Issei says suddenly, hovering by the door. “Maybe that’s why he thinks it won’t be so bad.”

“Matsukawa,” Iwaizumi says, brows furrowed in thought. “Hanamaki’s advice isn’t always...recommended, but he knows you well. You two were friends before me or Oikawa knew you properly. I don’t think he’d tell you to do something he knows you’d hate.”

Issei stares at him. “So you want me to say yes?”

“I want you to do what makes you _happy_ ,” Iwaizumi sighs, and in his tone, Issei catches a slight fondness. “And if going out with Tendou will do that, then go for it.” He grasps his shoulder, his touch all strength and warmth. “You know, I kind of get where Hanamaki’s coming from now. If you really hated the idea, you would’ve rejected him no matter what he said.” Issei is still trying to understand what that could possibly mean, but Iwaizumi is already walking away, already telling him to get changed quickly.

“Oh, and for your own sake?” He adds, “Wait until after the match to tell Oikawa. He is not above interrogating Tendou in front of the entire court.”

And just like that, he leaves him there. Issei stares at his retreating back. He stares at his own hands. He stares at the boy across the net, all wild red hair and a wilder smile, and thinks, _What the fuck is going on._

  
  
  
  
  


━━━━━━━━━━

  
  
  
  
  


They lose.

Well, of course they do. Issei is not like Hanamaki, voicing out loud the possibility of losing — yet again — to Miyagi’s champions, but deep down, he knows the result will be the same. He’d step on the court, take one look at the stone-hard conviction in Ushiwaka’s eyes and think, _Ah. We’re not getting this one, are we?_

Still, he’s alright with that. He doesn’t have Oikawa’s insatiable thirst for victory, nor Iwaizumi’s unwavering determination, but that’s alright. In a lot of ways, it’s mercy.

Issei watches Oikawa on the bench, still catching his breath, head low and eyes trained on the ground. Next to him, Iwaizumi, shrouded in the same disappointment. They don’t say anything. Issei wonders if presence alone is comfort for them.

Behind him, Hanamaki taps his shoulder, diverting his attention. He’s sporting the sort of smile one would when trying not to laugh. “Tendou’s looking at you.”

“...Right,” Issei sighs, but if it’s dread he expects to feel, it doesn’t come.

_If you really hated the idea, you would’ve rejected him no matter what he said._

And just what is he supposed to do with that?

  
  
  
  
  


Outside the gym, Issei finds Tendou waiting for him, a spring in his step. The rest of Seijoh are preoccupied with their recent loss, so only Hanamaki notices when Issei slips out to meet him. Issei hasn’t the slightest clue what to say, but Tendou is waiting — actually _waiting_ — and Issei’s not an asshole. Not completely.

“Matsukawa-kun!” Tendou greets. “It was a fun match. You were extra good today.”

“Was I?” Issei says, thinking back to the game. He normally performs better when he’s up against Tendou, but that’s only because Tendou knows just how to push his buttons.

“Mhm. Still, you lost—” Issei frowns. “—so how about that date? Hm?”

Issei regards him carefully. He knows there’s nothing really stopping him from turning on his heel and walking away. He doesn’t _have_ to go through with this stupid bet. He has nothing to lose by saying no.

But Tendou is smiling, and Issei doesn’t move. Tendou is smiling and it’s not that smile from the court, nor that smile when he’s up to no good. It’s simply — a smile. Tad hopeful, and a tad something else Issei doesn’t quite catch. He doesn’t care, he tells himself. He doesn’t. He doesn’t.

“...Where would we go, anyway?”

_Fuck._

  
  
  
  
  


━━━━━━━━━━

  
  
  
  
  


“...A bubble tea shop?”

“Why, Matsukawa-kun, you sound almost disappointed!”

“No, it’s just…” _It’s normal,_ Issei doesn’t say. He looks at Tendou, trying to imagine the wildness of him contained in something as mundane as a tea shop. It’s bizarre just thinking about it.

Tendou grins like he hears the unspoken part anyway. Issei isn’t used to any of this. He’s not used to Tendou in soft beige and plaid, nor the subtle flick of eyeliner; he’s barely even registered their proximity. They’ve never stood this close without a net between them.

The only thing Issei can find some semblance of familiarity in is Tendou’s hair, still unruly as ever. He wonders if it’s naturally like that, if Tendou had genuinely tried to tame it before giving up. He’d certainly made the effort to look good. Issei is still trying to get used to that fact.

And it’s not like Issei hadn’t tried — he’d dressed up in his favourite turtleneck (for some reason), and a long coat to match (for _some_ reason), and _why_ did it matter to him what he wore at all? 

But it did. It did, and Issei doesn’t know what to make of that.

“You seem like the type of guy who likes the simple things,” Tendou says, and then he’s dragging Issei forward before there’s even a chance to reply, boundless energy in that single grip of his.

It’s a small, quaint little tea shop tucked just around a corner. Walls lime green, counter polished wood. Round, sparkling tables, chairs to match. Succulents scattered here and there. A soft tune from an overhead speaker.

In a way he can’t explain, Issei is a little endeared.

Before Issei can wonder how someone like Tendou wound up finding such a place, he’s being pulled along. Tendou leans over the counter and chats with the lady in uniform like he’s been here hundreds of times. She smiles and greets him enthusiastically, and then her eyes shift to Issei and she pauses in surprise.

“Fukuda-san, this is Matsukawa-kun!” Tendou says, like Issei’s something to be proud of. “It’s his first time here.”

The smile returns to Fukuda-san’s face. “Ah, I knew I hadn’t seen you before. Fukuda Nanami, nice to meet you. Goodness, you’re tall, aren’t you? Are you on Tendou’s volleyball team?”

“Actually,” Issei says, “we’re….” What, rivals? Issei’s never thought of Tendou as a rival, not really. He’s always been someone he’s wanted to beat, but Issei’s seen rivalry before — Oikawa has a penchant for collecting those — and what he and Tendou have wouldn’t hold a candle to that. What are they, then? Perhaps just two boys who happen to be on opposing sides of the net. That’s what it’s always been, anyway — until Tendou had reached through and tore the net open.

“In different schools,” Tendou finishes for him. He doesn’t seem to mind Issei’s lack of conversational ability. He just looks at him like he’s guessed what he meant to say anyway. “We play each other sometimes. They always lose.”

“Hey,” Issei says, unamused, but there’s no fire in it. “We took two sets from you.”

“And we took three,” Tendou chirps. _This,_ Issei is used to. The teasing, the sly shift in tone. Tendou looking at him like he’d like more than anything for Issei to let slip his reserved demeanour and mess up a block. But there are no blocks he could mess up now, just...this. Whatever _this_ is.

“Next time,” Issei says, because no one likes losing, “We won’t let you take a single one.”

Tendou laughs, but to Issei’s surprise, it’s not scornful. It’s...oddly gentle. Genuine. He wonders if what he’s seeing right now is another side of Tendou, the one outside the court, the one who goes on dates and wears eyeliner and laughs like freedom is all he’s ever known. The one who’d looked at Issei and decided, _I’m going to ask him out._ The one that Issei can’t seem to make sense of.

Fukuda-san entertains their conversation, and though there are customers who come and go, she happily indulges in small talk. Issei learns that this is a family-run business, that she’s been watching her mother and sister blend tea bases and milk together since she was a child. She doesn’t outright say it, but Issei can tell she adores her job. The customers aren’t always chatty enough for her, but she sends them off with a wave and a smile anyway. Fukuda-san exudes energy, and when he watches her work, Issei can tell that she and Tendou are on the same wavelength.

It’s a little...it tugs at his heart.

By the time they actually give Fukuda-san their orders, Issei is swept away by much of their fluttery conversation, so much so that he doesn’t think much of it when Tendou bumps their shoulders together while they wait. Issei snaps out of his thoughts, eyes pulled to Tendou’s. They’re wild, those eyes of his. Wide and red, but not red like fire, no — red like something softer. Maybe cherry.

 _What the fuck._ Issei resists the urge to shake his head. No, there’s nothing he feels about Tendou’s gaze on him except irritation. That’s all. That’s all.

“Not much of a talker, are ya?” Tendou says, hands folded over their waiting station.

Issei shrugs. “Don’t have much to say.”

“What about yourself?”

“Not much about that either.”

“Heh, that’s okay,” Tendou says in reply. “Wakatoshi-kun’s not much of a talker, either, and we get along just fine. Besides, you’re kinda easy to read.”

Issei throws a puzzled glance in Tendou’s direction. “Easy to read?”

To that, Tendou merely smiles, and there’s not much room to prod at that particular claim anyway, because at that moment their teas arrive and Tendou’s already thanking Fukuda-san and dragging Issei to the table furthest into the shop.

Issei is hyper-aware of the long fingers curled loosely around his wrist, still cold but not unpleasant. Admittedly, Tendou’s picked a nice spot for them, just adjacent to a panelled window, various succulents aligned on the sill in a way Issei appreciates. Watching his silent admiration, Tendou doesn’t interrupt, instead shifting his gaze to the potted plants and waiting patiently. This is another new thing to Issei, Tendou’s patience.

“...It’s nice here,” Issei finally says, breaking the silence between them. “A shame that it’s an easy place to miss.”

“And that’s what I thought!” Tendou suddenly bursts out, gripping the drink in his hand so hard that Issei fears it might burst. By some miracle, it stays intact. “I keep telling Fukuda-san, ‘Yknow, you should consider expanding! At least opening another branch!’ but every time she says, ‘I don’t know, I like it the way it is.’” He rests a cheek on his hand, taking a sip. “Well, I guess part of what makes this place good is how cozy it is.”

And Issei can understand that, the charm in the smallness of things.

“I get where she’s coming from,” he says in response, taking a sip of his own. The tea coats his tongue in a unique sweetness, and it must show on his face, because Tendou takes one look at him and his eyes light up.

“You like it! Isn’t it great? Everything in this shop is amazing! Heh, Matsukawa-kun, your face is like a child’s on Christmas.”

“Shut up…” Issei mumbles, but he can’t stop the smile spreading across his face. Tendou’s right, of course, as he tends to be — but that doesn’t mean Issei has to like it. Much.

Tendou launches into an elaborate explanation, then, and the conversation swiftly shifts from bubble tea to chocolate delicacies to foreign pastries. Needless to say, Issei’s surprised by all the passion. Tendou talks about sweets like he plays volleyball: intensely, with a gleam of wildness in his eyes. And underneath it all, there’s pure, unbridled joy, bubbling and spilling over into every word. Issei, in all honesty, couldn’t give a damn about how his favourite sweets are made or where they originally came from — but when Tendou’s rambling about it, he just...he lets him. He lets him because he wants to.

Well. That’s something.

Tendou is so swept up in his reverie that he hardly touches his drink after that first sip. Mid-conversation, Issei reaches over to tap the cup with an amused smile, watching as Tendou follows his movements and then laughs when the realisation dawns on him. He takes a sip before diving right back into his talk until Issei taps his cup again, and so it goes.

“At this rate,” Issei says, when Tendou’s finally calmed down, “you should just open your own sweets shop.”

“Oh?” Tendou arches a brow, leaning in. “You think it’d be a good shop, hm?”

Issei scoffs. “I just think Tendou the Chef is less annoying than Tendou the Guess Monster.”

“Aw, Matsukawa-kun, you both wound and flatter me at the same time!”

 _And you confuse the shit out of me every time._ A thought that bears no malice but borders on irritation. Less at Tendou, more at himself. He can’t believe he’s been swept up by this whole _date_ thing.

He can’t believe he doesn’t mind seeing it through to the end.

 _Why did you ask me out, anyway,_ Issei muses, looking down at his almost-finished milk tea. It really was refreshing. Maybe he’ll stop by again, sometime later…

It’s only when Tendou is answering him does Issei realise he’d asked out loud. _Shit._

“What do you mean, Matsukawa-kun?” Tendou says, leaning back in his chair like this is the easiest question in the world. “People ask out people they like, right?”

_People they like?_

“...Oh.” Something warm pools in Issei’s belly. _Oh._

Tendou sighs, resting a reddened cheek on his hand. “Now you’ve gone and done it, making me confess like a schoolgirl under a cherry blossom tree. Did you think I was asking you out as a joke?”

“I...don’t know? Maybe?”

“ _Mayb_ —Matsukawa-kun! I just treated you to the best bubble tea in all of Miyagi!”

A small laugh bubbles out of Issei, the kind that embarrasses him just slightly. “Is that your love language? Sweets?”

Tendou beams and replies, “Now we’re on the same page.”

And it goes like this — whatever awkwardness and doubt that had lingered between them is lost in their banter and the little stories they tell each other. Somewhere along the line, Issei thinks, this isn’t so bad. Tendou isn’t so bad. He’s...really fun, actually, and when he laughs at his own joke, Issei thinks, I’d like to hear that again.

They leave rather late, considering they’d only stopped by for some tea. Tendou waves to Fukuda-san on his way out and Issei gives her a polite nod and smile. At the door, however, Tendou stops as if he’s just remembered something, and dashes back inside. Issei contemplates following him, but he feels a little awkward so he chooses to wait outside. The sun is just starting to set, the sky painted in swathes of brilliant oranges and pinks. It’s beautiful in ways Issei always forgets to appreciate. When Tendou returns, he’s carrying a small paper bag, pink like the sky. He stands next to him and they watch the sunset, together.

How had anything in his life led up to a moment like this?

“Hey,” Issei starts, voice quiet. “It’s kind of crazy that I’m saying this. But it was fun.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches a smile spread across Tendou’s face. It’s so bright Issei’s afraid of looking at it directly.

“Really? I’m glad to hear that. Here.” He extends to him the bag, and something akin to shyness tinges his smile. “Got you something.”

Issei stares, rendered speechless by a gesture that should probably be expected on a date. People buy things for other people they like, right? But Issei is... _Issei._ He’s likeable, perhaps, but to do this much? Just for him?

“I thought you’d like one,” Tendou continues, and here Issei sees it for the first time since he’s known him: Tendou’s nervousness. His gaze fixed somewhere beyond Issei, smile lacking conviction, hands tight around the bag. Tendou, afraid that he might be looking rejection in the eye.

Tendou, who went out of his way to take him someplace nice, treat him, spend time with him, simply because he’d wanted to. Because he wants _Issei._

And now, here he is, asking: _Do you want me back?_

Issei thinks about how ridiculous all of this is. Whoever’s pulling at the strings of his fate must be having a good laugh right now.

 _Laugh,_ he thinks, as he reaches to curl his fingers delicately around the bag. Pink like the sky. Pink like the start of something worth holding on to. _Laugh all you want._

Issei’s chest shudders with a breath when their fingers touch. Cold, just like yesterday. His hands are so cold, for someone so warm. He peers into the bag.

“A succulent?” Issei looks up. His stomach flutters with a feeling he isn’t used to. “They’re for sale?”

“Not the ones on display,” Tendou says. “But there’s a little corner with rows of them.”

Issei slips it out of the bag, admiring it against the setting sun. It’s small, now, leaves fleshy and especially thick. Soon it’ll grow to take up the space it needs, and Issei thinks it’d look gorgeous in his room. He’s never had a pet, and every plant he’s ever had under his care would eventually wilt and die, but maybe...maybe this will be different. Maybe this will last.

Issei slips it back into the bag with a tenderness he isn’t accustomed to, but will surely grow on him in the future. He looks back at Tendou and the smile comes to him naturally.

“Thank you. I’ll take good care of it.”

Tendou, as though bolstered by a sudden burst of confidence, reaches his hand out to hold Issei’s. They’re both bandaged and calloused from years of blocking, but they fit nicely against each other, Issei thinks. They fit nicely.

  
  
  
  
  


━━━━━━━━━━

  
  
  
  
  


“I know what you’ve been up to yesterday!”

Out of all the greetings Issei could have expected upon his arrival for morning volleyball practice, this certainly isn’t one of them. He’s yet to change his shoes and his bag still hangs heavy around his shoulders, but Oikawa’s cornered him by the entrance and Issei hasn’t a clue what to do with himself. Behind him, Hanamaki tries in vain to pull him back, and Iwaizumi looks mere seconds away from throttling him.

In that way, at least, it’s like another typical morning.

“Sorry!” Hanamaki hisses in a whisper. “He overheard us talking!”

“You shut your mouth!” Oikawa cries out, prying Hanamaki’s hands off of his jersey. “I can’t believe you hid this from me! Me! Have you no conscience? No shame? And Iwa-chan — I thought we were _best friends_!”

“I’m this close to punching you.”

“What are you talking about?” Issei says.

“And you!” Oikawa swivels, his finger poking Issei’s chest accusingly. “I know what you did! You and the enemy are in _cahoots_!”

Behind him, Iwaizumi rubs his temples. “Don’t say ‘cahoots’...”

Issei blinks. “You mean my date with Tendou?”

“So you _admit_ it!”

“It was a date, Oikawa, not espionage.”

“A date with the _enemy_!” Oikawa declares, and then oh-so-delicately puts a hand to his forehead like a scandalized maiden. “All this time...I thought I could _trust_ you—!”

“Give him a minute,” Iwaizumi sighs, and as Issei watches Hanamaki drag Oikawa away to tease the shit out of him, he can’t help but smile.

“I should be glad it wasn’t, like, Ushiwaka or something. I think he might have murdered me.”

Iwaizumi laughs. “He’s supportive, I promise. This is just his annoying as shit way of showing it.”

“I know,” Issei says, adjusting the straps of his bag. “Hey, um...thank you.”

Iwaizumi blinks, looking away from Oikawa and Hanamaki’s shenanigans. He tilts his head just slightly, curious. “For what?”

“For telling me to go on that date,” Issei says, and somehow admitting it so intimately warms his cheeks. “I mean, Hanamaki did too, but Hanamaki’s always telling me to do stupid shit. So when you said it...it just felt right.”

When he looks up, Issei sees the small frown on Iwaizumi’s face give way to a broad grin. He laughs and claps his back and puts all his heart into it. “I take it that means you enjoyed it?”

“Yeah...” Issei smiles. He thinks of bubble tea. He thinks of eyes the colour of cherry. He thinks of wild red hair and a pink sky and taped fingers. He thinks of the little succulent by his window sill. “Yeah, I did.”

**Author's Note:**

> aaa it's finally done!! this fic was 100% self-indulgent fluff and inspired by that one sketch of tendou asking issei if he wants to get tea together. (issei says no but like...come on issei. you're not fooling anyone.)  
> this was also a way for me to overcome my writer's block. i don't think it's my best work but i'm happy that i could write it.
> 
> (issei's choice of lychee milk tea is a small reference to [this fic ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26560762)! you should check it out<3)
> 
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/tooruluvr)


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